Goodbye
by foreverafangirl93
Summary: One-shot. Set sometime during the Trials. Sam gets word from an old friend that Amelia's passed away. AU in which all that crap with Amelia's husband never happened. Sam left for completely different reasons.


Summary: Set sometime during the Trials. Sam gets word from an old friend that Amelia's passed away. AU in which all that crap with Amelia's husband never happened. Sam left for completely different reasons.

* * *

He's done it again. Fallen asleep at the table in the library. He groans, rubbing the back of his neck as he lifts his aching head from the table. He squints at the bright lights before glancing at the computer.

7:16 pm.

Sam sighs, putting his hand back down. He moves the computer closer to the edge of the table, intending on continuing the research on their next hunt (a possible murderous ghost).

"Grub's here," Dean calls from the stairs, "got all your favorites. But, you do have to eat a burger, too. You know, protein and all that shit."

Sam rolls his eyes, out of little brother duty than any real annoyance. He lets Dean shove the computer out of the way and put his food in front of him.

"Thanks," Sam mutters before unwrapping a fork and digging into his salad. Dean slides the chair out next to him and plops down into it, already halfway finished with his burger.

"Find anything?"

Sam looks up, shrugging before looking back down at his salad.

"Headache?" Dean asks, softer this time. Sam merely nods, sluggishly picking at his salad. Dean gets up, presumably going to get him more meds. More meds that don't actually do any good.

But Sam lets him because he knows Dean needs to do something.

Snoop Dogg, Wiz Khalifa and Bruno Mars' Young, Wild, & Free starts playing on the table, causing Sam to jump. He feels his cheeks flush with embarrassment and immediately looks towards the doorway leading to the war room to see if Dean is anywhere near him. Thankfully, he's not. Sam immediately picks up his phone and slides it, answering it.

"Hey Dev," Sam speaks softly, afraid his brother's going to overhear even though he's nowhere near in sight.

"Hey, Fishbowl," The man on the other line replies, causing Sam to roll his eyes.

"Dude, when you gonna let that go?" Sam chuckles, which turns into a slight cough, "It was one time."

"More like one time too many," Devon laughs and it's quiet. It's not loud and boisterous like it normally is. That's the first red flag.

"What's going on? Did the money not go through?"

"Jumpin' right in there, aren't you?" Devon responds, stalling. "Relax, the money went through. Everything's…well, shit." There's a brief moment of shaky breathing, which sounds a lot like a sob, before he speaks again, softer. Gentler, "Listen, Sam-"

"Devon, come on, just say it," Sam's voice is suddenly dry. He can't move, he can't think. Not until Devon spits it out. What Sam already knows to be true.

Devon sighs, "She's gone, Sam. But, hey, she didn't feel any pain. In the end, I mean. It was like falling asleep."

Suddenly, the pain in his chest isn't from the trials rushing through his veins. He feels hollow. He should've been there. He should've been there.

"Sammy?"

Sam looks up, locking eyes with his brother. Dean's standing there, a bottle of pills in his hands and a concerned look on his face.

Sam stands up, albeit wobbly, holding onto the library table with his left hand as he grips the iPhone tightly in his right.

"Hold on," he says into the phone before saying to Dean, "I'm going to go outside, alright?"

Dean looks stunned, but nods slowly. Sam gives him a half-grin, which must be as pathetic as it feels because Dean's now looking at him even more worried than he did before. So, Sam doesn't hesitate. He walks out of the library, out of the war room and through the long hallway to the garage. He makes his way out into the crisp, fall air and settles himself against the wall of the bunker.

"You still there?" Sam asks, voice rough. Tired. Pained.

"Yeah," Dev's voice is the same, "I'm still here."

Sam lets out a shaky breath, "Was anybody with her?"

"Don't do that."

"Don't do what?" Sam exclaims, before calming himself, "I'm not doing anything-"

"The hell you're not," Devon snaps, "It's not your fault, Sam. It's not anybody's fault."

"You sound like one of those pamphlets," Sam says, dryly, looking out at the night sky and letting tears fall down his face.

"Yeah, well," Devon pauses, "Man, I don't…I don't know what to do."

Sam squeezes his eyes shut, "Were you…there?"

"No," Devon finally says, quietly, "I was at work and they…they called me."

"Shit," Sam mutters, "shit. Damn. Fuck."

He pictures her bright eyes, her wide smile. Her curly brown hair. The lump in his throat is now prominent.

"I know," Devon says quietly, "I know."

They stay silent for a while.

"I can be there in 8 hours."

"Dude, no, it's fine-"

"It's not!" Sam exclaims, "it's not fine! I promised her. I promised her."

He feels himself starting to unravel. Completely, totally unravel.

"Alright," Devon says, once Sam's calmed down enough to actually hear him, "you're welcome to come. I just wasn't sure-"

"I know," Sam says, feeling bone-tired as he runs a shaky hand down his face, "but I'll be there."

"You need directions?" Devon asks.

"Nope. I'll be good."

"Alright, well, call me when you get to town."

"I will."

They both linger on the phone.

"Dev?"

"Yeah?"

The words get stuck in his throat, but Devon gets it.

"Yeah, man," Devon says quietly, his voice breaking, "this fucking sucks."

They both hang up, but Sam stays outside. Just looking at the stars, not really seeing.

It's not that much longer before someone's shaking his shoulder. Sam moves his head, groaning.

"That's what you get when you nap outside. C'mon, wakey wakey."

Sam opens his eyes, looking up- up?-at his brother. He looks back down, realizes that at some point he had fallen against the wall and fell asleep. Yikes.

Dean offers a hand, but despite being frozen and wanting his warm bed, Sam feels the need to tell Dean everything. About Texas. About not looking for him. About Amelia.

"We need to talk," Sam starts, causing Dean to give him a confused look. Sam merely looks at him. Really looks at his brother for the first time since Purgatory. Dean pulls his hand back, putting it in his coat pocket. He looks around before sighing.

"Why don't we talk inside?" Dean asks, but he sits down next to him so Sam knows he's already won.

"Better out here," Sam says, though he has no clue why. "Before we do this, you have to promise me something."

Dean rolls his eyes, but allows it, "Fine. What?"

"You don't interrupt. I don't know if I can do this twice." Sam looks out at the nearby trees, pulling his legs up and resting his arms on them.

Dean's quiet. Eerily quiet. Like, that one time he was angrily stewing about what fifteen-year-old Sam did to baby in the parking lot of Piggly Wiggly, kind of quiet.

"This have anything to do with the phone call?"

Sam hesitates, but nods.

Dean lets out a breath, "Alright. I'm listening."

"I was alone," Sam begins, "completely, totally alone. I mean, when I was at…at Stanford, I wasn't completely alone, you know?" he glances to make sure Dean's still listening. His brother isn't looking at him, but Sam can tell by his posture that he's listening intently, "I knew you and Dad were out there. This…god, I've never felt more…" Sam swallows fighting back his emotions. His fists clench and unclench on his knees, "I thought you were dead, Dean. I swear. Otherwise, I would've…I would've turned over every damn stone. I thought you were in Heaven, but I should've known, though, right? I mean, I'm pretty sure we don't get a Heaven. Not after…well,everything."

Dean looks angry at that, like he wants to interrupt, so Sam keeps on,"Anyway, after…after a few days…well, more like weeks of the good ol' fashioned Winchester coping mechanisms, I found myself in Kermit, Texas. I had just killed a werewolf, wasn't thinking that clearly. After patching myself up and a lot of booze, I hit a dog. Amelia's dog. I was a mess, physically and mentally but I took him to a clinic, where Amelia, consequently worked. She yelled until she was red in the face," Sam pauses, letting himself slightly smirk before turning somber again, "She was so cute. Brown, curly hair blowing as she let me have it. It was the first time I actually, um, felt anything. Anything other than mind-numbing, soul-crushing….grief. She thought I was insane, you know, smiling as she tore me a new one." Sam pauses, taking a breath and shakes his head, "I told her I'd make it up to her. She gave me coffee, helped me sober up. I told her I'd take responsibility for my actions. I'd help pay for his bills. I found a few hunts close by and managed to get a part-time job as a repairman. We started seeing each other… more and more when I came up to pay the dog bills. Eventually, I paid it all of. I didn't really want to stop seeing her, so I kept going to the clinic. Buying useless animal collars, medication, whatever I had to just to see her. She caught on, you know. She isn't-wasn't-isn't…" Sam stumbles over the last few words, a few tears escaping.

He looks down at his shoes, running his hand through his hair as he tries to collect himself. He feels Dean squeeze his neck. A comforting gesture from his childhood that in itself brought tears to Sam's eyes.

"She wasn't an idiot. She was smart. Harvard degree and everything. We had been out on couple dates when she found out. She got cancer. The really bad, brain tumor cancer. I moved in with her when it got really bad. Her brother was overseas at the time. Her father….well, he's not the most loving person out there. I was all she had and she…she was all I had." Sam glances, catching Dean's eye. Dean, surprisingly, doesn't look angry like he has the past few weeks. He looks….sad and guilty. "I left when I got word of a lone hunter wandering around."

Sam pauses, before adding, "I don't tell you all this to make you-"

"I know," Dean gives him a slight smile, nudging his shoulder, "So, that's what the phone call was about?" Dean asks quietly.

"Yeah… she's…she's gone." Sam nods, looking back at the stars and sniffling, "Her brother, Devon called me. Funeral's in…well, he didn't really say. He just called to tell me." He pauses, unsure of how to tell his brother that he is going to Texas as soon as he pulled his shit together.

"Alright, looks like we're going on a road trip," Dean says softly, squeezing the back of Sam's neck again.

"Dean," Sam starts, but this time, Dean interrupts.

"Okay, I'm breaking the rule but screw the rule. Sam, I'm sorry. I didn't…I didn't know, which is my fault because I didn't bother to ask. I just assumed. I was just so…angry and exhausted. Which aren't excuses. Not when it comes to you." Dean says adamantly, "I know you. You're my kid brother and I know my kid brother would never abandon me. Not if he thought there was a chance."

"I'm so sorry," Sam blurts out, face crumbling, "I am, Dean."

Dean can't take it anymore. He pulls his brother over, wrapping his left arm around his gigantic sasquatch of a brother as best he can. Sam puts his head on his shoulder.

"I know, Sammy." Dean mutters, "I know."


End file.
